


The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing

by hopeless_eccentric



Series: (Free! That's right! Free!) Penumbra Commissions [9]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ballroom Dancing, Begrudging Dance Substitute Juno Steel, Canon Non-Binary Character, Dance Teacher Ben, Desperately In Need Of A Dance Partner Peter Nureyev, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Humor, Nonbinary Juno Steel, Other, and ben being alive, just to excuse them having phones, sorry to anyone who's done a class like this ive only done competitive dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26639542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_eccentric/pseuds/hopeless_eccentric
Summary: Even if Juno kept his head towards the rest of the class while he demonstrated the dip, Nureyev’s easily-impressed heart thrummed tenfold against his breastbone. He had Juno’s weight in his arms and Juno’s trust upon his shoulders, and for all that stupid, animal organ seemed to care, those things might have been two dozen roses and a wedding ring.When they went to practice the dip to the music, Nureyev made the mistake of locking eyes with Juno mid-dip, barely able to focus enough to pull out of it with the way Juno beamed at him.(Free!) Commission for @zannolin on tumblr!!
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Series: (Free! That's right! Free!) Penumbra Commissions [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921492
Comments: 18
Kudos: 145





	The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zannolin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zannolin/gifts).



> this one's pretty soft y'all! i'm doing content warnings just in case (even if it's light material, you've gotta stay safe!)
> 
> Only content warnings are for a breakup (Peter gets ghosted right before a dancing date and it's discussed in the first few paragraphs) and an alcohol mention!

Peter Nureyev hadn’t expected a second date, if he was being entirely honest with himself. He and the gentleman whose message had just ripped across his phone had some amount of chemistry, though he supposed that might have been the wine or the atmosphere or just the pressure to find a partner at their age. 

He hadn’t expected that message to pop up on the lock screen of his phone with a buzz that seemed to wane in pitch empathetically, as if laying a hand on his shoulder and telling him there were plenty of fish in the sea. 

Nureyev read as far as “and my partner’s not mad at me anymore” before shutting his phone off and shoving it into his back pocket, as if that little five-by-three screen had wronged him, rather than the asshole he had met through his third or fourth attempt at online dating. 

Of all dates to stand up, of course he had to be left partnerless at a partner’s ballroom dancing class. 

Peter had half a mind to ask for a refund and an entire mind to turn around and leave, but found himself stopped when the door connecting the lobby and the inner studio was swung open by an arm so artfully muscled he felt his jaw go slack. 

The person holding the door open resembled the teacher emblazoned across the website, though Peter doubted this ‘Benzaiten Steel’ had lost an eye and broken his nose at least twice in the months since the site had been updated. The lady at the door would have been cartoonishly grizzled if he wasn’t also the owner of the loveliest face Nureyev had ever run into at the absolute worst time. 

“Come on in,” the teacher sighed as if he weren’t actually expecting any of the couples to walk through the doorway. He almost looked surprised when proven wrong.

He continued waving a hand by as the couples filed into the studio, some older and clutching hands and others young and grinning at one another to hide the nerves that burst from them like fireworks. Nureyev found himself hesitating, trying to pry his mind off the instructor for long enough to figure out how to explain his predicament.

“My brother did something weird to his ankle. I’m taking a class so he can rest. I know all the steps and everything. You just won’t have as pretty a face to look at,” the instructor continued, finishing his words with half a glance at Peter, who had yet to leave the lobby. 

“I would beg to differ,” Nureyev heard himself breathe. 

The words were followed by the second, louder sound of the teacher managing to trip on solid ground. 

“Are you alright?” Nureyev forced himself to say through the blush tearing across his face like a forest fire. 

Peter Nureyev didn’t blush, but it seemed his traitorous blood flow would make an excuse for a lovely enough dance instructor at the worst of all times. 

“I’m okay,” the instructor choked, one hand on the back of his neck and a mortified laugh on his lips as he made an attempt at standing once more. “You—ah—you got a partner?” 

“It seems you’ve beat me to my own question,” Nureyev sighed. 

“Stood up?” The teacher grimaced. Peter nodded. 

“I’ll admit,” Peter cringed. “Taking someone dancing for a second date is a bit of a red flag.” 

“If you still wanna take the class, I wouldn’t mind a demonstrator,” he offered, though his shattered poise and stuttered words spoke more of a freshman asking his crush to a school dance. 

“I’d be delighted,” Nureyev said, a smile on his lips when the instructor seemed to let out a sigh of relief. 

“Great,” he breathed. “Call me Juno.” 

“Juno,” Peter repeated, savoring each syllable. 

He was sure he had spoken the name before, if not at some point throughout his education, at some other time. However, only now did those two syllables seem a sonnet unto themselves, more a blooming, many-petaled dahlia on his lips than something as trivial as a name. 

“You got it,” Juno snorted. 

“Peter Nureyev,” he returned. 

“Alright then, Peter Nureyev,” Juno smiled. Nureyev felt his breath catch at the sight of an expression that was like soft candlelight to the eyes. “Find an x to stand on up by the mirrors. Are you ready to lead?” 

“Oh, Juno,” Nureyev grinned. “I’m always ready.”

Juno covered his second trip over the ledge of the studio a little more admirably, though he sputtered when he turned over his shoulder to tell Nureyev to mind the step. 

“One more time for everybody in the back,” Juno composed himself enough to say to the class. “My name’s Juno Steel, you’re all taking the adult ballroom dancing course, and Peter here’s gonna help me show you a few steps. Anyone looking to lead should watch him. Everybody else watch me.” 

When it came time to demonstrate a few basics of courtesy, from the bows and curtsies to the firm ‘no stepping on Juno’s feet’ policy, Juno led Nureyev to the front of the room as if he were escorting a Victorian lady down from her carriage. While Nureyev far preferred to be the one guiding his partner by the elbow or making them flush with half-bows and professions of affection two hundred years out of style, the way someone so recently slouching stood and guided him with such poise made Nureyev’s heart skip a few too many beats for his liking. 

Peter had all but forgotten the sinking of his heart at that text message when Juno guided each of his wrists to his hand and waist. He found he couldn’t find the first thing to think about other than just how close Juno was to him, or the way he smiled and squeezed his hand when Nureyev did something just right. Perhaps the instructor felt the same way, for he spent a suspiciously little amount of time checking the hands of the other members of the class and spent far too many minutes demonstrating. 

The steps themselves would have been easy, though every misstep felt amplified tenfold with his heart racing under his blouse. Even if the music was the kind of violin waltz that reeked of moth balls, his heart pounded to the beat of a tango. 

“Remember to breathe,” Juno offered halfway through a spin. “Gotta keep yourself alive before you can even worry about the steps.” 

“My apologies,” Nureyev sighed. “I’ve found myself a bit distracted today.” 

“I wouldn’t worry. You’re better than most,” Juno snorted. “You just looked nervous.” 

“Nervous?” Nureyev replied as if it had been some affront to his honor. Juno’s humored smile softened. 

“Your pulse is going a mile a minute,” Juno returned, raising their connected hands. 

Nureyev’s face fell. He had forgotten that their wrists were brushing so close together, his mind having been locked on the feeling of Juno’s waist, shifting with barely elevated breath, right below his hand. He couldn’t help but give some small thanks that Juno’s dress was black, for otherwise, some evidence of Peter’s sweat-slick palm might have shown. 

“Ah, so it is,” he managed to chuckle. “I suppose we can’t always control what our organs want of us. Tell me, Juno, does your blown pupil impact your dancing at all?” 

“Didn’t—uh—“ Juno sputtered. “Didn’t realize you were staring into my eye or whatever.” 

“It’s quite a nice eye. I don’t see where else I’d rather be looking,” Peter smiled. 

“At your feet, maybe,” Juno joked. 

“Is my placement that terrible?” Nureyev teased. 

“It’s damn good, actually. Did you take lessons?” 

“I’m afraid my father was always a champion of traditional etiquette,” Peter replied like the words tasted of festering copper in his mouth. “It’s helped me, of course, but I’m afraid some of my dates have complained of my being—“ 

He broke off in search of a word that wouldn’t come, but Juno’s voice, shaking with an amicable laugh, saved him the trouble. 

“Austenian?” 

“Perhaps,” Nureyev chuckled. “I do hope you’re not an opponent of that.” 

“Usually,” Juno shrugged. “I think some people pull it off alright.” 

“And do I pull it off?” 

“I dunno,” Juno snorted. “Depends on what you’re doing later.” 

Nureyev opened his mouth for a reply, still undecided whether it would be in faux-scandal or a response of equal interest when Juno pulled his hands away to stop the music. He didn’t think to close his mouth once more until Juno began to walk him through a series of simple turns and dips. 

Even if Juno kept his head towards the rest of the class while he demonstrated the dip, Nureyev’s easily-impressed heart thrummed tenfold against his breastbone. He had Juno’s weight in his arms and Juno’s trust upon his shoulders, and for all that stupid, animal organ seemed to care, those things might have been two dozen roses and a wedding ring. 

When they went to practice the dip to the music, Nureyev made the mistake of locking eyes with Juno mid-dip, barely able to focus enough to pull out of it with the way Juno beamed at him.

“Damn, Nureyev,” he chuckled. “You sure know how to make a lady feel special.” 

“Is the flirtation a bonus service I’ll have to pay for after this?” Peter found himself smiling. He whirled Juno through a spin before he could reply. 

“I’ll have to ask my brother,” Juno snorted. “Why do you ask?” 

“I was just wondering what kind of price I would have to pay for a bit more of that service,” Nureyev mused. “Drinks? A movie, perhaps?” 

“How about dinner and a phone number?” 

Perhaps Juno spun a bit too fast, or perhaps he just mistepped, but Nureyev found himself tripping for the first time all class. He had a feeling neither excuse was correct, for Juno’s smirk felt all too easy to blame, as little as he wanted to blame the lady for anything. 

“Are you okay?” Juno tried to hold back a laugh.

Replying seemed to be the hardest thing in the world with Juno clutching onto him like that, a chuckle barely restrained from his lips, but genuine worry blossoming in his eye. 

“Why, Juno, I don’t believe I’ve ever been better,” he somehow managed to return.

Such tragedies as time restraints and the ending of the music forced Juno to pull his hands away from Nureyev. Peter felt a sigh follow them when Juno began his closing remarks and information about follow up classes. He was halfway to striding towards the door when he felt those same hands that had held him so gracefully stumbling upon his elbow. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped with what I said about—“ 

Juno’s stormy expression melted when Nureyev broke into a chuckle. 

“Juno, I’ll admit, you’re the first person in a very long time to fluster me,” he beamed. “That’s the kind of honor I feel deserves something in return.”

“Oh?” Juno asked, an eyebrow raised. 

Nureyev pulled a sharpie from his pocket and bared the tip. 

“Your palm, if you don’t mind,” he requested. 

Juno laid his hand flat upon Nureyev’s, his palm facing the ceiling. Peter wrote his number across the center line, trying his best to keep the handwriting sloping and gentle upon a surface that twitched with hardly quieted excitement. He didn’t have the time to check, but he could only assume Juno too was fighting a thrumming pulse of his own. 

“I’ll give you a call,” Juno smiled once the pen had drawn away. “And I won’t make you pay for dance classes and not show up, but the bar’s really on the floor there.” 

Nureyev blew onto Juno’s palm so the ink might dry before the hand curled back in upon itself. He kept it in his own for a moment longer, if just to flip it back over and bring it to his lips. 

“Quite the gentleman,” Juno snorted. 

“What word did you use again?” Nureyev all but beamed. “Austenian?” 

“Shut up,” Juno grumbled, though there was an air of affection about his words. 

“Call me,” Peter replied. 

He gave Juno’s hand one last squeeze before turning to go, the touch still buzzing between his fingers and against his palm all the way back to his car. When he found a seat behind the steering wheel, he paused, deleted the phone number behind a parting text he hadn’t bothered to open, and then took off. 

Nureyev might have craned his neck for one last look at that lovely lady within the studio. If he did truly do so, he supposed nobody would have to know.

**Author's Note:**

> wahoo!! finally i wrote something without any angst or injuries
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!! Make sure to SMASH that kudos button and leave a comment down below!
> 
> come yell at/with on tumblr @hopeless-eccentric or on twitter @withane22 !!


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